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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28405974">Wayward</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Trash_Queen/pseuds/Trash_Queen'>Trash_Queen</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Original Work</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Cunnilingus, Dirty Talk, F/M, Femdom, I guess? kinda mildly?, Kinda?, Light BDSM, Opposites Attract, Pegging, Praise Kink, Priest Kink, Repression of various kinds, Subdrop, a priest and a satanist walk into a bar and the rest is weird bedroom history, one of the characters is a priest so it's mentioned, sex as therapy sorta</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 16:48:14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>5,460</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28405974</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Trash_Queen/pseuds/Trash_Queen</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>“I had a fight,” She sighed into the receiver, and it came across as a crackle of static. “With my parents. I just need- I don’t wanna be alone right now. Can you- could you come over sometime?”</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Original Female Character/Original Male Character</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>23</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Wayward</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Cait and Peter are both just funtime oc's; in this (their main universe) he's a priest and she's very much not christian but they're both consenting adults so it's fiiiiiiine because i mean sometimes you gotta dom your sorta boyfriend to work thru some abstract emotional issues am i right or am i right</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p><em>“I had a fight,”</em> She sighed into the receiver, and it came across as a crackle of static. <em>“With my parents. I just need- I don’t wanna be alone right now. Can you- could you come over sometime?”</em></p>
<p>     She called that afternoon, and that evening Peter was making an excuse- tonight’s was a walk, and a visit to a family in the congregation on his way back to the rectory, so don’t wait up- and walking up to her door, testing it and finding it unlocked. He let himself in, announcing his presence before toeing his shoes off and going to the kitchen. He checked the fridge before deciding to make himself a cup of coffee, looking absentmindedly around the kitchen as he waited. He was pulling milk out of the fridge when he turned and saw that Cait had materialized in the doorway, apparently fresh out of the shower, dressed in a pair of sleep shorts with a towel draped around her shoulders, dripping onto the hardwood.</p>
<p>“You came right when I got in the shower,” She explained. “I was working outside all afternoon. I hurried.”</p>
<p>“I made coffee while I was waiting. If you want some.” He gestured to the machine.</p>
<p>She smiled weakly before crossing the kitchen, pushing him back against the counter and taking his face in her hands as she kissed him, his clothes absorbing the water she hadn’t bothered to dry off, making his shirt stick to him; he noticed the smell of lemon and olive oil soap following her.</p>
<p>“Thank you for coming,” She pulled back and rested her forehead on his shoulder. He unbunched the towel from around her shoulders, wrapping it around her.</p>
<p>“You’re shivering. You should put a shirt on.”</p>
<p>“No,” She kissed him again. “Too many clothes.”</p>
<p>“Then put a shirt on, take your shorts off,” He suggested.</p>
<p>“No,” She was more insistent, bunching her hands in his shirt and pulling him from the counter, walking him back towards the bedroom.</p>
<p>“Let me put-“</p>
<p>She made a frustrated sound and dropped to her knees, her hands going to his belt buck and trying to undo it before his hands settled over hers. “Hey, stop it-“</p>
<p>“Will you just let me-“ She tried to pull her hands out of his, glaring up at him.</p>
<p>“Not until you tell me what’s wrong,” He crouched down so he was nearly level with her, frowning. “What happened? You said you had a fight.”</p>
<p>“It’s nothing,” She huffed. “It happened and now it’s over and I wanted to see you and get you off, can I do that?”</p>
<p>“That’s not a healthy reaction to a fight,” He pointed out. She just raised an eyebrow, giving him a look, before looking down to where his knees were bent, his feet pressing into the tile, and he realized he had made a mistake.</p>
<p>     Cait twisted her hands against his thumbs and got her wrists free before springing forward, knocking him back onto the kitchen floor and nearly hitting his head on the cabinets. She muttered and apology and crawled up him to look at where his head bumped the floor, and he took the opportunity to roll them so he was over her, caging her in.</p>
<p>“What happened?” He asked again. “We’re not doing anything until you tell me.”</p>
<p>“I don’t want to-“</p>
<p>“You were nearly crying on the phone,” He cut across her, remembering how her voice wavered over the line. “What. Happened.”</p>
<p>She was weighing her options- fight to roll them back over, push him off her and regain some control, or talk about the fight. Distract and evade, or confront. And she was calculating how long she would have to play it all out until he would let it go. If he would let it go. If all the rolling around and faux-fighting would be just that, a ploy or some weird kind of foreplay that only made sense to her, or if she was picking another fight. Eventually she sighed, and looked away from him, frowning.</p>
<p>“They wanted me to go to mass with them again, after Christmas,” She admitted. “But the only reason I went was because of you, and I know we can’t sneak off after every service and I have stuff to do at my church so I said no. And it just, turned into an argument.” She finished with a shrug and a sigh, like it wasn’t really a big deal, but Peter knew better. He had met her parents, multiple times, remembered what Callahan’s said about her- <em>They’re a devout family, but Cait has always been… difficult</em>- and speaking to Mr. and Mrs. MacGee, their worries that their daughter was a wayward soul, that she was going down the wrong path. He felt a little bad that they had talked to him about it after they had kissed, after he had started having what would politely be called inappropriate thoughts. Her parents wanted her to be pious, to be godly, to love the church as much as they did, and he knew it hurt all of them when she didn’t, and that hurt came back around to her in turn.</p>
<p>“What happened?” He asked again. “That’s not all of it.”</p>
<p>“One of the things I hate,” She said carefully, “Is when people tell me I don’t know what I’m doing. Or what I believe, or what I know. I hate sanctimonious, self-righteous pricks who only believe in something to make other people feel stupid.”</p>
<p>“I’ve talked to your parents, that’s not why they believe what they do,” She opened her mouth to argue again, but he kept going. “Not that they’re right, to talk to you like that. But they do love you, and they do worry.”</p>
<p>“They have a shitty way of showing it, then.” She sighed and rubbed her eyes, groaning. “They think- they want- someone whose not me. It feels like they want someone whose not me, and I just- I can’t handle that, sometimes.” Peter sat back, pulling her with him so she was off the floor, and took her face in his hands. Tears were starting to form at the corners of her eyes, on the edge of spilling over. He leaned forward and kissed her, slowly and carefully, before pulling back and pressing a kiss to her forehead.</p>
<p>“You’re a very different kind of person. I’ve never met anyone like you. But I wouldn’t trade you or change you for anything.”</p>
<p>“Not even to evangelize me?” She asked weakly, the corner of her mouth twitching up.</p>
<p>“Not even for that,” He said firmly. “I’ve never seen anyone who didn’t have doubts about themselves or what they believe in- I’ve had plenty myself- but you have conviction. And you shouldn’t worry if you have conviction.” She pressed her cheek into his hand before taking it and pressing a kiss into his palm, his other hand pushing wet strands of hair behind her ear. “I’ll get another towel, and then we can-“</p>
<p>“Let me take you to bed,” She cut across him. “Please?”</p>
<p>“Are you sure you want to?”</p>
<p>“I’m sure I want to do what I want to do,” Her voice was careful, low, “But I don’t know if you want to do what I want to do.”</p>
<p>“Why not tell me and find out,” He suggested, but the look in her eye told him it would either be something frantic and desperate or strange to him. She leaned in and kissed him again, biting gently at his lower lip.</p>
<p>“I have a strap-on,” She whispered. “And I really, really want to fuck you with it, and tell you every dirty little thing I want to do to you.” Peter felt his heart stutter, and for a moment, he felt nervous, every bad, fire-and-brimstone thing ever told to him about sex and sodomy flooding back into his brain before Cait squeezed his hands in hers. “If you want to,” She leaned forward to rest her head under his chin. “Only if you want to.”</p>
<p>“Is this- would it be like, therapy? Or confessional?” He swallowed, twisting the idea around in his head.</p>
<p>“Mmh. Maybe a little, but don’t try to rationalize it like that,” She huffed. “You should like the idea if you’re gonna do it.”</p>
<p>“I-“ He started, before faltering, his mind stuttering as he thought about it again. “I like the idea of being with you.”</p>
<p>“Do you like the idea of being with me like this?”</p>
<p>“I do,” He whispered; his gut twisted, cautious and anticipatory, the knot in his stomach tightening and loosening as Cait pulled him to his feet and led him to her bedroom, walking backwards.She pulled him to her when they crossed the threshold, kissing him again before turning and pushing him onto the bed. She crawled over him, unbuckling his belt as she kissed him, his hands running down her back. “You’re still cold,” He muttered when she pulled back. “You have goosebumps.” She undid the zipper and pulled at the waistband of his pants and underwear, moving so he could wriggle out of them. When his hand went to his collar, she stopped him.</p>
<p>“Leave it,” She instructed. “And your shirt.”</p>
<p>“I don’t-“ He was already doing a bad job at compartmentalizing his life at the church and this, and this felt like a step too far, like leaving it would change it for him.</p>
<p>“Please?”</p>
<p>“I can’t wear my collar and, and-“</p>
<p>“Your shirt then,” She let go of his hand. “Leave your shirt on.” He nodded, pulling the white piece of plastic off and setting it on the bedside table, and Cait moved back. “Sit up against the pillows.”</p>
<p>     He pushed himself up the bed, and she slid down so she was leaning over his hips, his crotch- he wasn’t hard yet, his cock laying half-interested against his hip. She took it in her hand, moving slowly, teasing him, watching intently as he took steady breaths and his stomach quivered. She licked her lips, glancing back up at him before leaning down and taking him in her mouth. Her mouth was hot, wet and plush and good as she drew back up, her tongue teasing the slit before working her way back down, humming contentedly as he got hard, repeating it all a few more times before pulling off, watching him as she replaced her mouth with her hand.</p>
<p>“I love your cock,” She said lowly. “I have dreams about it- about you-“ He closed his eyes and pressed his head back into the pillow with a huff, twitching in her fingers. “You fucked me so perfectly at Christmas, I thought about it for days. I wish we could have done more- put me on my stomach while you fucked my cunt, it would have been so good-” He thought about Christmas a lot, too- the memory of her under him, both of them half-dressed and frantic had been in the back of his head for weeks after, the memories there to… keep him company, so to speak, in bed or the shower, where he could recall every kiss and touch and moan and giggle. He realized the hand stopped, and he opened his eyes- when had he closed them?- and looked down to see her watching him, her hand resting by the base of his cock. “Did you hear me?” She asked.</p>
<p>“What?”</p>
<p>“I asked you a question, but you looked like you were elsewhere.”</p>
<p>“Ask it again,” He said quickly, wanting to get back to touching, to talking-</p>
<p>“Do you think about it too? Christmas?”</p>
<p>“All the time,” He nodded. “It’s can get distracting, when I’m- when I’m working.” Her hand wrapped around his cock again and he sighed, rolling his hips and pressing into it. He was leaking now, pre-cum helping her hand move.</p>
<p>“I think about you a lot-“ She continued. “Fantasize about it- you bending me over a desk and fucking me until my legs are shaking, playing with my tits until I have to beg you to touch me somewhere else, anywhere else- holding my legs open and watching while I get off, telling me where to touch myself, how to fuck myself- it always turns me on.”</p>
<p>“You sure you got the right guy? The me in your head sounds like a different person,” He chuckled.</p>
<p>“You’d do it,” She grinned. “You’re so good to me, do you notice? Always trying.” He didn’t say anything, just relaxed into the pillows as she teased him a little bit more. “You got a little mean over Christmas, remember? When that guy almost walked in on us. I think you’d be good at telling me what to do, don’t you?”</p>
<p>“Is that what you want?”</p>
<p>“Next time,” She breathed, letting go of him so she could crawl up the bed, reaching for the drawer in the bedside table and retrieving a bottle of lube. “Ready for more?” He nodded, and she pulled him back down the covers, pushing his legs apart. “I should make you hold them. Make you hold your legs open while I get you ready,” She grinned wickedly before looking thoughtfully down at him. “Put your hands here,” She squeezed the flesh under his knees. He did as she said, feeling himself blush as he held himself open for her. “If you let go, I’ll stop.” He nodded, tilting his head back again as he felt her hand on his cock, toying with him before sliding down to his balls, his perineum, rubbing circles that made him take a sharp breath before taking her hand away. He heard a cap pop, and a moment later she was pressing into him, rubbing insistently at his rim.</p>
<p>“You can only tease me so much,” He groaned.</p>
<p>“I can tease you all I want,” She slid her finger in, grinning as his hips twitched with the unfamiliarity. “How does it feel?”</p>
<p>“Weird,” He admitted.</p>
<p>“It’s- you’re just- there.” Her grin widened, pressing more insistently against the flesh as she searched for it, humming excitedly when she found it.</p>
<p>“There it is,” She pressed against that bundle of nerves again, watching his eyes blink open and his back arch, his cock twitch- he was flushed, from his cheeks down to where his shirt obscured his chest. “I want you to love this, to dream about it-“</p>
<p>“I already dream about you,” He pointed out, feeling the need to defend himself, like Cait was insinuating that he didn’t, somehow.</p>
<p>“I want you to dream about me doing this to you- fingering you, fucking you. We gotta love how we want to be loved, right?”</p>
<p>“Solid argument-“ He groaned as she rubbed across his prostate again. She didn’t reply, just kept teasing him, leaning down to take his cock in her mouth again, throwing him into a loop- bucking up, as much as he could, into her mouth before she ran her finger over those nerves, and he would grind back down in search of more. He could feel himself getting closer, the pressure pushing up through his chest as she dragged him nearer and nearer to the edge; he didn’t want to reach that peak just yet.</p>
<p>“I thought you were gonna talk to me- tell me what you wanted to do with me.” She licked one last stripe up the underside of his shaft before looking up at him, flushed, her mouth spit-slick and pink.</p>
<p>“I do,” She nodded, and he felt her finger pull out of him almost completely, and for a moment he feared the loss of it before she pressed another finger in beside it. “I’ve thought about this for a long time- you’ve got such a nice ass, it’s unfortunate no one’s ever done this to you. It’s almost a sin, and it’s unfair that I’m the only one who takes it. Fuck you until you can’t walk, can’t think- show you how good it is-“ She added a third finger, the pressure approaching too much as she kept going, stopping when they were all the way in and letting him adjust. “I wish I had a dick sometimes, so I could really feel this. You’re so tight around my fingers, I bet you’d be amazing.” She considered him carefully for a moment, frowning in thought before she said, “Tell me how it feels. Fucking me, I mean.” Peter recalled the few times they had done anything, how he remembered it, indulging in the memories of how it felt late at night when he was alone. He was amazed he had any blood going anywhere other than his face as he felt his skin burn again, hotter at having to talk about it.</p>
<p>“You’re- you’re warm. Hot, actually, almost- almost too much sometimes,” His voice was wavering, strained. “Every time I’m in you it’s like I’m warm in the best way, and it’s soft and I can see whenever I make you feel good, can feel you squeeze around me- and when you cum it’s- you’re beautiful, you know that? And I made you feel like that.”</p>
<p>She grinned, moving her fingers, the pressure sending shivers up his spine, taking her free hand a placing it over his abdomen, pressing gently down, watching carefully as he groaned before sliding it up, under his shirt and finding a nipple, pinching gently at it before worrying the flesh with her thumb. Peter’s eyes fell closed again, his orgasm building before Cait let up, let him relax back against the mattress, let his breath catch back up with him.</p>
<p>“Ready for more?” She whispered after a moment, pressing a kiss to his knee. “Still want to do it?”</p>
<p>“Y-yeah,” He looked blearily down at her. “Yes, if you still want to.”</p>
<p>She slid her fingers out of him, her other hand leaving his chest, and he felt empty as soon as she was away from him. Oddly alone, even though she was still at the end of the bed, watching him hungrily.</p>
<p>“Are your legs okay?” She asked. He nodded. “Keep holding them. You’re doing so well.” Something curled, pleased and preening, in him at the praise. Cait ducked out of sight, something scraping along the floor as she retrieved it before she stood back up, bent over at the waist and working on something that he couldn’t see. When she was done, she replaced the box she had retrieved it from, and climbed back on the bed. The whole thing was more…delicate than he would have thought. The straps of the harness wrapped around her hips, biting just barely into the flesh there, holding the glass dildo in place between her legs, a designed, streamlined approximation of the real thing. She reached for the lube again, slicking it up before shuffling forward and pressing the head of it against him, looking up at him, the question plain in her eyes. <em>Still okay?</em> He nodded, expecting her to move, was ready for it, but she stayed still.</p>
<p>“Tell me what you want.” She had her hands on his ass, the backs of his thighs, squeezing the flesh as she held him open even further, teasing him, and against all odds he knew that this would be the thing that killed him. He would die, somehow, of embarrassment and arousal in Caitlyn MacGee’s bed at the age of thirty. His obituary would be hilariously short- <em>died fucking</em>.</p>
<p>Cait, in her seemingly infinite sensitivity to his trepidation, rubbed little circles into his skin, leaning over him. “I want you to tell me what you want, Peter. I want you to keep doing well for me, don’t you want that?” He nodded, making himself meet her eyes. “Tell me what you want. Tell me how it feels.”</p>
<p>“I want- I want you to fuck me,” He made himself say it, keep his voice slow, measured. “I want you to fuck me because I feel so on edge, if you don’t I don’t know what I’ll do.”</p>
<p>“Is that a threat or a plea?” But she seemed satisfied, pushing slowly and deliberately into him. He replied anyway; if he was already turned on and embarrassed and debased, it probably wouldn’t hurt.</p>
<p>“<em>Please</em> fuck me.”</p>
<p>Cait grinned, wrapping a hand around his erection again as she bottomed out, her hips pressing flush against him, letting him settle into the feeling of it before she pulled back, and thrust back into him again. She kept her movements deliberate, holding him between the feeling of the dildo in his ass and the hand wrapped around his cock as she found her pace and angle. When the head of it slid over his prostate, he moaned, the sensations finally reaching a point past everything else she had done to him, pleasure settling under his skin, in his head. He realized after a moment that she was peeling his hands away from under his knees, and he made a noise in protest.</p>
<p>“Ssh. I want you to jerk yourself off for me,” She instructed, guiding one of his hands to replace her own. Her hands went to his hips, pulling him closer to her, the soreness in them and relief of being able to let his legs down adding to it all. She moved faster, watching him through half-closed eyes as he fell apart, pinning his free hand to the comforter when he reached up to take hold of one of her breasts. “No touching,” She breathed. “Good boys keep their hands to themselves.” That pleasant, preening thing in his chest quivered, made him bunch the comforter in his fist and nod as she smiled, her hand returning to his hip. The pleasure kept building, and this time she didn’t do anything to stop it, watching him hungrily as his spine arched and his chest heaved.</p>
<p>“What if I just kept you here, made you stay in my bed so I can fuck you whenever I want, make you cry with how good you’d feel- make nothing else matter to you except this,” She gave a particularly pointed thrust, his back arching with it. “You’d be perfect for it, are perfect for it- so pretty and obedient.” His cock twitched in his hands at that, made him nod that yes, <em>yes</em>, he wanted that, he could do that, whatever she wanted- “You’d try anything I ask, wouldn’t you? Let me bend you over and spank you if I wanted, tie you up, open you up and put a plug in you and send you back there to feel it all day, make you think about me while you worked- anything I wanted. You’d let me ruin you for anything else but this, wouldn’t you?”</p>
<p>He didn’t answer, couldn’t, as his mind conjured up fantasies of everything she said, hanging on every word. He whimpered when one of her hands took his jaw, held him still. “Look at me,” She instructed, and he forced his eyes open. She had fixed him with an intent, expectant look- pinned him like a butterfly, spread out in perpetuity for her to enjoy. “You’d let me do anything, want me to do everything to you. Make you feel good, make your hurt- you’d let me own you, wouldn’t you?”</p>
<p>“Y- yes- yes-“ He choked around it as she fucked into him, hitting his prostate again, as he squeezed and worked at his cock, leaking over his fingers, feeling reckless at the thought of it, because of course he would. “You have, you do- I’m yours-“</p>
<p>“Don’t close your eyes,” She smiled. “You’re going to watch yourself cum for me, keep being good for me.” She rolled her hips so she was fucking him with long, deep strokes, and suddenly he couldn’t take it- he watched as her hand returned to his hip, holding him fast as he came, torn between glancing up to see her look hungrily at him as he came across his stomach and watching himself, the sensations becoming almost unbearable for a moment as he clenched around her, shaking through the aftershocks as she fucked him through it all, rolling up and into him one last time and staying there as he started to come down. When she eventually did pull out, he felt empty again, hollowed out and exhausted and raw as she sat back on her heels, her fingers playing absentmindedly around the harness, the base of the dildo as she took him in, worrying her lower lip between her teeth.</p>
<p>Eventually, almost regretfully, she stepped off the bed and undid the harness, letting it all drop to the floor before crawling back up and settling over him.</p>
<p>“Still ok?” She whispered, smoothing his hair away from his face.</p>
<p>“You didn’t cum, did you?” He asked.</p>
<p>“Not yet, but I can just-“</p>
<p>“Let me,” He opened his eyes, unaware, again, of when they had fallen closed, and went to take her hand in his, stopping short of grabbing it. <em>Good boys keep their hands to themselves</em>, and his orgasm-addled mind was taking it’s time figuring out if they were still playing that game.</p>
<p>“Let me do it. Let me touch you.” She considered him carefully before nodding.</p>
<p>“Alright,” She pushed off of him again, settling back onto her heels. He pushed himself up so he was on shaky knees, considering her carefully- her breasts, the nipples pointed and flushed, the gold piercings through them catching the lamplight- the soft curve of her stomach and thighs, the maze of tattoos that ran across her hips and legs, before bringing his hands to her breasts. They were perfect, fit perfectly in his hands, and he had the absurd thought that the two of them were made for each other, predestined to fit together like this.</p>
<p>His thumb brushed across one, catching the piercing, the peaked flesh, before he leaned forward to take the other one in his mouth, running his tongue over it, tasting sweat and skin and metal, the smell of the soap Cait used filling his lungs. She sighed above him, threading her fingers through his hair as he worked, her breath hitching as he blew cool air against the one that had been in his mouth before moving to the other, nipping gently at her flesh, teasing.</p>
<p>She held him to her, the warmth between her thighs growing again- opening Peter up, using the strap on, had made her feel warm, powerful, and she had expected Peter would be dead to the world after it all, at least until he had to force himself out of her bed and make his way back to his own. That he wanted to do this- touch her, please her, bring her to her own completion, made her… happy. Suffused with an emotion that was hard for her to quantify as his mouth and fingers played across her chest, scratched lightly down he sides as he took her hips in his hands and placed his head on her breastbone, almost like he was in prayer.</p>
<p>She slid her hands around his shoulders, played with the collar of his shirt as he held her to him before he looked up, pressing a delicate kiss between her breasts and moving to lay back down, pulling her after him.</p>
<p>“Where do you want me?” She asked.</p>
<p>“Up, over- over my face. I want to eat you out,” He pulled at her hips, urging her along until she was over him, her knees on either side of his shoulders and her hands holding onto the headboard. He took a moment, taking in her sex as she stay still above him, one of his hands ghosting along the inside of her thigh to pull her open, let him see how wet she was, how ready.</p>
<p>Peter turned his head so he could press a kiss to the inside of her thigh before replacing his hand on her hip, guiding her into place so he could lick into her, running his tongue in a broad stripe to her clit. She inhaled sharply, jumping slightly before pressing forward as he did it again. Above him, Cait had started talking again, her voice soft and hitching with each stab of his tongue at her entrance or her clit.</p>
<p>“You’re so good, I want to keep you here all the time, tied to my bed so you’re here for me to use-“ He decided to keep his mouth on her clit, moving his hand back to tease her entrance as he did, holding her in place with his other hand as her hips jumped and stuttered above him. He slid two fingers into her, thrusting in gently as one of her hands tangled in his hair, holding him still as he worked.</p>
<p>He knew when he had found that spot, her moan making his cock twitch in sympathy from where it lay against his hip. She pressed more insistently against his mouth, his fingers, losing herself to her own pleasure faster than he had to his. He could feel her tightening around him, hear her voice become breathier as she talked, her confessions about how she wanted him giving way to <em>more, more, more</em>, the whole thing coming to a too-abrupt end when her thighs tensed up around him as she moaned, pressing against his tongue and fingers as the wave crested and broke, bowing her forward with a cry.</p>
<p>She stayed there for a moment, seeking out the last of it all before she pushed herself off of him, moving slowly as she crawled back down the bed so she was laying chest to chest with him again. She smiled at him, small and contented, before taking his face in her hands and finally, <em>finally</em>, kissing him, licking into his mouth.</p>
<p>“I can taste myself,” She groaned, grinning before going in for another kiss. He held her to him, letting his fingers play absentmindedly up and down her spine as hers carded through his hair, over his nose and eyebrows and cheekbones as they both lounged in the afterglow. “Thank you for coming over,” Cait eventually said, pulling back enough to look at him. “Thank you for letting me do all that.”</p>
<p>“You’d do the same for me,” He mumbled, his eyelids growing heavy. “Maybe not with sex, but…” He trailed off and she grinned, pushing herself up so she could grab the edge of the blanket that had been bunched at the foot of the bed, pulling it over them and plastering herself against Peter’s side, holding him tight.</p>
<p>“I don’t want you to go,” She mumbled. “Wanna make it impossible for you to leave.” But it had no force behind it anymore, no bite; the game was over, she was resigned.</p>
<p>He didn’t say anything, just kept holding her as he stayed somewhere between sleeping and waking as Cait relaxed beside him. Eventually, he made himself look at the clock- nine pm- and forced himself to get up. Cait mumbled as he moved, blinking against the lamplight as he walked to the bathroom, cleaning his stomach and between his thighs, the blush returning full force before he dressed and righted his shirt, his legs unsteady, and came to stand by the bed, retrieving his collar and making himself put it back around his neck.</p>
<p>She reached for him, rolling onto her back as he took her hand, leaning down to press a kiss over her fingers. She reached up with her other arm and grabbed at his shirt, pulling him over her so she could kiss him, sweet and half-asleep, one last time. Standing back up, getting ready to leave, felt terrible. His mind was in free fall, twisting back and forth between Cait, holding him, kissing him, on top of him, and searching for a verse or passage to distract him as he moved through the process of leaving, turned the bedside lamp off and closed the door, leaving her to slip back into sleep as he padded back to the kitchen.</p>
<p>The milk got left out on the counter, the coffee maker was still on; he righted both of them before turning around the kitchen, looking for anything else to put away. After a moment, he conceded the battle to its’ present organization and cleanliness- no dishes to do, no food to put away. It was strangely quiet, the unnatural feeling beneath his skin compounding as he walked outside, where everything looked… normal. Sedate in stark nighttime contrast with everything they had just done. He turned back to look at her house, at the cared for garden and eclectic collection of plants and trinkets on the porch and the dark windows before walking down the street and toward his own bed.</p>
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